


Apathy Has Never Been Bliss

by shippingmyarmada



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Alternate Universe - No Sburb Session, Bro is Really Depressed, Depression, Established Relationship, I Take Out My Feelings on Striders, Implied Sexual Content, M/M, Mentions of Sex, Sibling Incest, This Might Be Kind of OOC on Bro's Part
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-23
Updated: 2014-08-23
Packaged: 2018-02-14 08:57:54
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,048
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2185653
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shippingmyarmada/pseuds/shippingmyarmada
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>You do not think that you will ever be able to be gentle with anything. Everything you do is harsh and rough and unforgiving. Bloodshed does not phase you, you do not flinch at blossoming purple and black splotches. You do not think you are a masochist. You do not think you are a sadist. Mostly, you just think that you are sad.</p><p>Your act of uncaring is no longer an act.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Apathy Has Never Been Bliss

**Author's Note:**

> So apparently I just like to torture the Striders. Sorry for the OOCness of Bro, but people act different when depressed.

He tells you he loves you every chance he gets. You have yet to return the sentiment.

You wonder how those words fall from his lips so easily, whereas you choke on them as your tongue turns to guilty lead.

His touches are light, gentle, like he thinks you will break if he holds you too hard. It is infuriating. You are the older brother, you are the strong one, you always have been. Dave is always touching you. His hands wander when they aren't supposed to. You love him.

When you take him, it is hard and rough and he moans so loud you think the neighbors will hear. You think the scratches on your back will never heal, he reopens them every time you fall into bed together. But let's be real, here, it's never only bed. You fuck him against every solid surface in the apartment. The two of you act like like horny teenagers (neither of you are, he turned twenty last month, you are turning twenty-nine soon).

When you make love, it is hardly love. It is clashing teeth and strong hands and harsh pounding, because you may have mastered sex, but you are far from understanding lovemaking. He does not mind, he tells you to go harder, faster, _more_.

You leave fingerprint bruises on his hips. He claims you as his with bite marks on you shoulders.

You do not think that you will ever be able to be gentle with anything. Everything you do is harsh and rough and unforgiving. Bloodshed does not phase you, you do not flinch at blossoming purple and black splotches. You do not think you are a masochist. You do not think you are a sadist. Mostly, you just think that you are sad.

Your act of uncaring is no longer an act.

Dave strives to be like you, he always has. You want to smack him, to shake him, to scream. Apathy is not bliss, it never was, never will be. It is not healthy to have only one important person in your life, it is not good to be unlikable, it is not fun to push away everyone who has ever cared for you.

You used to be high on life.

You wonder what happened.

Dave happened.

You do not blame him for your unhappiness. It is not his fault you you fell in love/lust/ _whatever_ with him. It is not his fault that instead of coping with your feelings, you shut them down so far they ceased to exist.

You never were good at feelings.

You love him. You do not know what love is.

You drink. You drink too much. He drinks with you. You do not chide him for drinking underage, because there is nothing about your household is legal. He tastes like whiskey and melancholy when you kiss him, but maybe that is just you. He does not seem to mind.

He kisses you every chance he gets. Sometimes you want to tell him to stop, but you don't. Sometimes you wish you could care about things again, but maybe being a living zombie is just easier. You don't know if he realizes that the Bro he fell in love with is no longer there. He has to notice. Your facade had never been this good.

People do not love you. You have always been unlovable. You wonder why Dave is so different.

You think he wants to leave you. You would not blame him.

Every time he smiles at you, you think your heart breaks. You forget you have a heart, most of the time.

You have become a secondary character in your own story.

Sometimes you wonder what it would be like to take a skydive off the roof of your apartment building. Would you fly?

It has never ceases to amaze you how much fucking your brother broke you. It wasn't like you had many morals to to begin with. But apparently, you crossed the one line you shouldn't have and now you can never go back.

You never had been a truly happy man. You had a sick sense of humor and a crooked smirk and a barking laugh, and maybe that had always been enough to trick everyone, including yourself, into think that maybe you enjoyed life most of the time. You used to take pleasure from music and puppets and strifes and sex, but now you are hardly going through the motions.

You never had been a particularly good man, either. Maybe that was what had let you fuck your own brother for the first time two years ago.  

But Dave loves you, and maybe that's the only thing that matters. You doubt it.

You were supposed to be the one who protected Dave from gross men too old for him, not the one he needed to be protected from. It still makes your stomach churn.

Dave is not in love with you, he is just obsessed with the thought of you. You know that, but it makes everything easier to pretend that he truly does love you. You do not know how this has continued for two years. He should have been sick of you after the first month, everyone else has been.

Dave's hands are small and soft, unlike your large rough ones. He does everything so perfectly, at least in your eyes. Okay, maybe he could work on his sword fighting techniques. But you could watch him mix tracks at his turntables for hours. He is so perfect, he could find someone so much better than you. You wonder why he stays. He has no reason to.

You try to be careful with him, you really do. You treat him like glass, but whenever you touch him softly, he always tells you _do it harder._ He tells you that he like to be able to feel things, that he want to feel you touch him. You do it, of course you do it, gentle has never been in your nature. 

You wonder if he is just as broken as you are.

Your name is Dirk Strider, mostly known as Bro, and you don't think you could have fucked anything up more royally than you did with your relationship with Dave.


End file.
